Grateful Heart

I'm not sure what it is about midnight, but that's usually when I seem to be the most contemplative. I need to get these thoughts down or my brain will never shut off and go to sleep! (I'm blaming it on the air of gratitude that comes with the week of Thanksgiving. ;) )

As I have been working on some Christmas presents that require me to look through all the photos of this past year, I cannot help but feel so incredibly blessed! I know it sounds totally cliché, but it's the truth. My bed is still just as uncomfortable as it was last year, my front room still has that weird yellowish paint on the walls, my backyard still lacks any 'purposeful' vegetation, but I don't even care. (Well, maybe a teeny bit...;\)  I can't believe how fast my girls are growing up, and I am in awe of the great little humans they are turning into. Daisy is no longer my cute little Daisy. Suddenly she's this independent, smart, beautiful, talented young lady. I have no idea how she came from me...! Zoey is still spunky, but she's not my squishy chubby babe anymore. She does things like "homework", make jokes that are actually hilarious, and knows just how to bat those beautiful eyes to get her way. My girls share a room and I love to listen to the pillow-talk they have every night (when they're not bickering, of course!) I'm realizing that this is their childhood, right at this moment. They will remember things, and my influence on them is more pressure-packed than ever! Then there's Max. How can he be TWO already?!? Obviously, I often forget his actual age until some stranger asks. In a selfish way, I kind of like that his development is slow. It helps me to keep my baby a baby a little while longer, and to truly relish in each milestone that my girls seemed to truck through so quickly. I'd say 75% of the time, being a mom to these three is a real struggle, because I want to be perfect and I'm so far from it. But then I have those other moments when they make me so proud and I (briefly) feel that maybe - just maybe - I'm doing something right....

I also, somehow, have this husband of mine that I in no way deserve. There is no doubt in my mind that Jeff was destined to be Max's dad. He is amazing. Never once did he ever make me feel like Max was "my fault". (Which, honestly, he kind of is...Its MY mutated gene, right?!?) Even when we were dating, the possibility of having a handicapped son was just NEVER an issue. I needed that more than he will ever realize. Jeff fiercely loves his son. It is obvious to everyone. I can't imagine struggling through life without him by my side. We're a team, and I am flabbergasted that he loves me even when I'm a stinky, stressed-out mess.

I've also been blessed with amazingly supportive friends, neighbors, and extended family, but that's a whole other post for another day.

So basically, I guess what I'm saying is, this Thanksgiving I'm just completely thankful for my little family. I still can't believe I'm a "Mom," but I really wouldn't trade it for anything. <3 <3 <3



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I am a Mother

"Oh...."
     It's a word I get far too often. How can such a small word be filled with so many questions?
"Was he early?"
     "No."
"He's how old?"
     "11 months."
"Oh...."
     How do you explain to a stranger- in 30 seconds or less - the complexity that is Max, when all they did was ask the universal default question when one sees a cute babe, "How old is he?" It's been almost a year since Max was born. I naively thought I would be used to it all by now. I mean, it's been a WHOLE year! But I still don't have the magic response that answers all those unanswered questions in their eyes, and I'm starting to think I probably never will.
    No, Max is not just a preemie. He's not Down's, Autistic, or Prader-Willi. He doesn't have spina bifida or cerebral palsy. He's not any of those things. He never will be. He is Max. He is my Max. Why can't that be enough? Why do we have to put him into a category? Sure, it would be easier to explain, and probably easier to get funds to help with medical necessities, but he isn't. He IS severely handicapped, although he may not look it. No, I have no idea if he will ever walk or communicate. I don't know if he'll be able to feed himself, take care of himself, go to school, or kick a ball. Yes, I definitely HOPE that he will be able to do all those things and more. But don't expect me to predict the future. I'm just a Mom. To simply answer your questions, all I can say is, I DON'T KNOW!!! To all you doctors who call yourselves "specialists," who went to school for many years and paid lots of money for that schooling, I need to remind you that I am his Mother, and that is more than any of you will ever be. Yes, I'm confiding in all of you to help me, but it's incredibly frustrating when you're not on my side and questioning every one of my decisions. I am the one that lives with him. I am the one that God chose to raise him. I am still trying to wrap my brain around that. Max is here for a reason and so I will fight for him. Fighting is hard. But that little 10-pounder is worth every knockout.